


The Princess and the Frog

by sicsempertarantulas



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bellarke, College, F/M, Fluff, Movie Night, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 04:24:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3836995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sicsempertarantulas/pseuds/sicsempertarantulas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellamy Blake has the hiccups, and nothing he's tried to get rid of them has worked. Movie night is starting, and Clarke needs him to be quiet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Princess and the Frog

“I sound like a drunk cartoon character,” Bellamy grumbled, dumping the freshly-popped popcorn into a large bowl. He handed it down to Jasper, half-hidden in a small mound of blankets by the ottoman. Monty snatched a handful, scattering greasy kernels and reminding Bellamy why the pair had been banned from occupying the furniture on movie night.

Well, that and the fact that all the other real estate in his and Octavia’s little living room was spoken for. Their little group was closely knit, but obsessively territorial about their claimed cushions.

“This is why we can’t have nice *hic*– damn it!” He’d only had one beer, just while he piled the extra pillows on the couch and loaded everyone’s preferred drinks into the fridge, but apparently that was all it took for unending hiccups to set in. Every time he started to speak, a little spasm would interrupt. It was infuriating.  
“Aww, Bells. You’re like a little toad. Rrrrrribbit,” Octavia crooned at him from the oversized armchair she and Lincoln usually shared. In his absence, she had draped herself across both arms as if it were a throne.

“Toads croak, O- you’re thinking frog,” Clarke offered as she settled into her seat at the center of the sofa and tucked a throw pillow to her chest. “Have you tried holding your breath, Bellamy?”  
“Or a spooooon-ful-of-su-gar,” sang the heap of blankets, vibrating with a giggle.  
Clarke raised a questioning eyebrow at Monty, who shrugged and said, “Brownies. Very good brownies,” by way of explanation.

“I’ve tried *hic* everything, thank you, Pri- *hic* Princess,” Bellamy said, getting a little more irritated with every hiccup.  
“Don’t call me-” Clarke began, but Raven cut her off with a tap-tap-tap of the remote against her hand, calling them to order.  
“Maybe we can scare it out of you,” Raven suggested, grinning. “I present, as reigning board game champion, my pick for movie night: Saw. The original. The classic. The freaking terrifying.”  
A groan went around the room, with mumbles of “This is what we get for playing Risk for four hours” and “Seriously, horror,” and a small “Do you want to play a game?” from the blanket pile. Monty smacked at Jasper lightly, then tossed some more popcorn at him.  
“Silence! My victory, my movie. And I need some terror, guys. So enjoy.” Raven flicked the lights off, and waited while Bellamy snagged a bottle of water from the fridge and sprawled across his place on the L of the couch.

The opening credits rolled up, and Bellamy tried to focus on keeping himself quiet. He tried closing his eyes and breathing through his nose, and for a moment it worked until *hic* it didn’t.  
*Hic* came again, and Bellamy heard Clarke sigh exasperatedly at the noise. She was the enforcer when it came to the “no-talking” rule during movie night, except on the nights following very big test days. On those nights, Drunk Clarke would recite the dialogue, sing along, or offer “helpful” commentary on anything playing, and no power in the verse could stop her.

Bellamy’s hiccuping intensified as the title gave way to a frantic man in a bathtub, and drowned out the murmured lines coming from the dark corner of the on-screen bathroom.  
“Bellamy…” Clarke warned, glaring over at him.  
“Wha- *hic* what do you want me to d-*hic* do abou-” His question was cut off when Clarke launched herself over the throw pillows, pressing her lips against his and tangling her fingers in his dark hair. He stopped breathing while his brain tried to catch up with what was happening, even as he reached out for Clarke’s waist, pulling her closer. Bellamy opened his eyes when she leaned back, her hair a curtain between them and the rest of the room. Clarke smirked, and Bellamy, dumbfounded, smiled back.

Octavia, now upside down over the back of the chair, pumped her fist and gave a whoop of excitement, while Monty gave a small - literal - round of applause.  
“Well, I was right about scaring them out of you,” said Raven, grinning like the cheshire cat.  
Bellamy rolled his eyes, and started to say something, but Raven was right- his hiccups were gone. He leaned up to kiss Clarke again - just a peck - and mumbled, “Thanks, Princess.”  
The look he got from Clarke was less scolding than soppy, but before she could say anything, the pile of blankets broke into a fit of giggles.  
“What’s so funny, Jas?” Monty asked, elbowing the afghans.  
It was almost impossible to make out words between the laughter and the muffling blankets, so Bellamy pulled them back, revealing their friend.  
“The- the- the _Princess_ and the _Frog_ ,” he gasped out, falling backwards into the empty popcorn bowl.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love any and all feedback, critique... this is my first go round with a drabble of any kind of fanfic, and I'm fretting a teensy bit.


End file.
